


Sweeter Than Honey

by ashkazora



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: At the start at least, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Bad Humor, Canon Universe, Gen, Keith & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Mission Fic, That's it. That's the fic., Undercover Missions, lance is the honeypot for a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkazora/pseuds/ashkazora
Summary: In an effort to prevent a shipment of quintessence from landing in the Druids' hands, Team Voltron must go undercover in a nightclub to gather information from a Galra who might know the whereabouts of the shipment. The method was simple: use Allura as a honeypot to wheedle out the info. Easy, right?Except, what they didn't expect, was for the target to take a liking to Lance instead.-Written for the Blue Moon Lance Zine.
Relationships: Lance & Voltron Paladins
Comments: 17
Kudos: 265





	Sweeter Than Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Blue Moon Zine! It's a free Lance-centric zine that you can download [here!](https://bluemoonzine.carrd.co)  
> I highly recommend downloading it! It's got a range of amazing artists and writers <3
> 
> This was written back in June/July, and was a real interesting experience writing with a word limit for the first time. 
> 
> Also: this takes place in an alternate universe around s2/s3, where they are in their original lion positions but not quite a 'team as family' yet. 
> 
> Anyways, here's the fic!

“What’s up, Paladudes!”

Strolling into mission control, Lance’s arrival was met with groans from his teammates. 

“Late as always, Lance.” Allura said, eyebrows furrowed at his abrupt entrance.

The blue paladin lifted his hands, shrugging sheepishly. In space, there were few constants; the Galra were always angry, space was always cold, and Lance was never on time to mission briefings. 

“You know it,” Grinning, Lance shot a finger gun at her. Just like always, she ignored it with the same vigour as one might brush off a cute but vaguely annoying child. 

“So,” Lance said, hurrying to a small hologram in the middle of the room where everyone else was gathered around. “Have you guys figured out what our next mission is?”

After liberating the Azurian system, Allura, had set her eyes on Pollux-XI, a planet with one of the largest refuelling stations for intergalactic travellers. It looked a whole lot like Earth before World War III - a metropolis of futuristic design with towering infrastructure. 

The Blade of Marmora had supplied Team Voltron with information of a new export going through Pollux-XI’s docks. Rare quintessence was supposedly transported under the guise of common materials. With it, there would be enough energy to fuel more powerful Komar-like weapons. 

Needless to say, team Voltron’s interest was piqued. If the location of the quintessence and illegal trade routes could be found, they could put a sizable dent in the Galra’s resources /and/ stop the Druids from getting their hands on more power.

“This,” Shiro began his speech, pointing to a hologram of a Galra in formal military clothes, “is Commander Sylix. He’s not only the commanding officer of all trade operations on Pollux-XI, but also in charge of high-risk trafficking such as slaves, contraband, and most importantly, quintessence.”

Lance’s eyelids drooped as his attention wavered. If it wasn’t for Hunk intermittently kicking at his ankle, he’d definitely be asleep right now. 

“If the Coalition got ahold of these and could destroy the warehouse where items are imported and exported to and from Pollux-Xi then the Galran Empire’s transport efficiency will be cut in half, effectively choking them from a large proportion of weapons and materials. However, Sylix is notoriously secretive about the location where he keeps the more important items before they’re shipped. He has three main storage facilities, two located inner-city and one by the harbour, but we only have enough resources to target one. If we choose the wrong one, then...” Shiro trailed off, the implications of his works sinking in.

Allura stepped up, taking the spotlight from Shiro. “All we know is that there will be a large shipment of quintessence coming into Pollux-XI tonight and will leave the planet in a movement. This is why we need to find out where he’s keeping it before it falls to the Druids.”

Nodding along, Lance perked up as Allura swiped at the hologram, changing the picture to a large black building etched with veins of neon glow. 

“We’ve received intel that Sylix often frequents a club, _Hyacintho Luna_. Surveillance has caught him leaving the site most days a week with different women of all species.” Holograms flashed before Lance’s eyes, showing a half-dozen rather attractive women. “Shiro and I have decided to commence an operation, where I’ll go undercover and try to glean the location of the quintessence from him.”

_Ooh, an undercover mission._ Lance began to grow more attentive, especially at the prospect of going to a nightclub. 

“Hunk, Keith, you two will be undercover in _Hyacintho Luna_ as well, just in case things get messy.” Shiro said, taking control of the briefing again. “Pidge, there’s a small loft above the club that we’ll be renting out, so that you can hack into the club’s cameras and be on the lookout. I’ll be with you to help man the comms. Lance, you can come too.”

A second ticked by. Then two, before red-hot annoyance surged through Lance’s veins. 

“What?!” he cried, injustice shaking his body, “How’s that fair? Everyone has a job but me! Why can’t I do something?”

Shiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time that day.

“Look, Lance-“ he started, only to be immediately cut off. 

“So Allura gets to go but I can’t?” Lance threw his hands up. “What’s she got that I don’t?”

Shiro stared at him for a moment too long. “Shapeshifting abilities,” he deadpanned. “And, you’re seventeen, Lance. I think I would be an irresponsible leader if I sent you into a nightclub underage.”

_Low blow, Shiro, low blow._ It wasn’t like Allura was any better. No one knew her _actual_ age.

“Hey, you never know, I might be eighteen! Time dilation and all.”

_“Lance.”_ Shiro groaned out, but he couldn’t help but feel some fondness for his leader. Lance’s name being used as an expletive reminded him of home.

Not even his signature puppy dog eyes swayed Shiro. Thinking all hope was lost, Keith’s sudden interruption surprised Lance to say the least.

“He should go.” Standing up, Keith eyed Shiro, pointedly avoiding Lance’s slack jaw. “Lance’s got the keenest eyes of us. If something goes wrong, he’ll be good ground support.”

_Wow._ A warm feeling buried itself in Lance’s stomach. Keith was the last person he’d expect to stand up for him. Not even Hunk - his closest friend - dared to speak out against Shiro. But _Keith?_

No, this really wasn’t what he expected from him. He flashed Keith his greatful grin which was returned by a thinned-lip smile. 

Looking back at Shiro, all it took was a pout to push him over the edge.

_“Fine.”_

Lance leapt in the air, whooping in victory. 

“However,” _And here comes the catch._ “I want you in disguise, and no contact with the target.” The blue paladin opened his mouth but quickly shut it as Shiro interjected, “And no alcohol either.”

“But--”

“I don’t want you anywhere near the dancefloor. No picking up alien girls. No flirting. No leaving the club. If I smell even a lick of alcohol you’ll be grounded.” Shiro said, living up to his ‘Space Dad’ nickname.

Lance deflated. “Buzzkill,” he muttered, mumbling several other words that would have surely gotten his mouth washed out with soap if he was back on Earth.

Though he couldn’t be mad for too long. After movements of being sidelined to the token sniper on missions, he’d finally be allowed to do something worthwhile.

_This was going to be fun._

\---------

Walking up to Hyacintho Luna, Lance felt like a bundle of nerves. If it wasn’t for Allura hanging off of his arm, he’d be positively freaking out by now. Luckily, the Princess’ close proximity calmed him down just enough for the mission.

Trepidation gnawed at his stomach. His fingers clenched at the urge to scratch at the back of his neck - a tic he’d picked up in space. But before he could pick at the scales decorating his neck, Allura grabbed his arm, intertwining his slender fingers with hers. Still fidgeting, Lance looked down at Allura, hoping her presence would be reassuring.

Unlike most days, where Allura was just a couple inches shorter than him, today she had shifted much smaller. 

With their faces starting to circulate around galaxies the team had been forced to raid another Swap Moon for clothes and makeup. Despite being able to alter almost any part of her body at will, Allura couldn’t do anything to hide her signature Altean marks, so both of them had a bit of a makeover. Donning purple skin, eerie yellow eyes, and about a foot less height, the princess had done her best to look like a run-of-the-mill Galran halfbreed, just as intel had described Sylix favoured. 

She wasn’t the only one that had to alter her looks. Humans were rare in space; it would draw too much attention if he showed up bare-faced. No, without the gifts of shapeshifting, the blue paladin was forced to utilise what little he remembered from his childhood of being Veronica and Rachel’s literal canvas and had to do some altering of his own. 

Suddenly he was no longer human, but more reptilian-looking with glittering azure scales that travelled up from his neck, and shoulders, cleverly concealing a small camera that Pidge could stream live footage from. With a pop of eyeliner, some glowing blue contacts and a comm disguised as an earring, Lance was ready to play the part of an alien and _finally_ step foot into a club!

As he neared the entrance, bright neon lights caught his eyes. Veins of bright purples danced across an obsidian-dark building, painting the portrait of an oddly familiar vibe similar to downtown Plaht City. If he squinted his eyes, Lance could almost imagine that he was on Earth again.

Outside, a small velvet rope sectioned off a line of partygoers that were dressed similarly to Lance and Allura. The line stretched all the way to the other side of the club, and down the street. Lance’s first instinct was to find a way to sneak in but luckily, thanks to some preplanning and genius foresight on Shiro’s part, they didn’t have to.

“Are you ready?” Allura murmured, her gaze equally caught on the blinding neon glow. By the way Lance’s caramel skin whitened under her grip, he knew she was focused wholly on the mission. 

Lance smirked. Though as the giant brick building loomed over him, he couldn’t bring himself to show his normal cocky grin. “As I’ll ever be.”

With Allura in tow, Lance strolled up to the front of the line, ignoring the glares of waiting patrons as he blatantly cut in front of them. Two muscular bouncers - Balmeran, from the looks of it - stood guard at the doors, both in the most cliché ‘I’m-so-tough-with-my-arms-crossed’ pose that Lance had ever seen. If it weren't for Allura’s iron-clad grip on his arm, Lance would have definitely hesitated as they stared him up and down. 

The muscles on those Balmerans were… _very_ intimidating. A little bit hot, too, but mostly intimidating.

Before Lance could even think of opening his mouth, Allura dug into her clutch and fished out a small, white card, and flashed it at the bouncers. Their glares turned from intimidating to something softer as they parted to allow entrance to the club. As the door slowly swung open, anxiety boiled in his gut. Suddenly, the weight of the mission came crashing into him. 

What if he screwed up, or said something wrong and blew the whole mission, or-- 

The doors finally opened, and Lance’s jaw dropped.

Strobing pastel lights immediately assaulted his eyes, flaring up what little he could decipher in the intermediate darkness. He had to blink a couple times to adjust, the lights almost making the blue paladin see stars.

As he and Allura walked further in, Lance starstruck expression never faded. The club seems to be divided into two; a dance floor where all the flashing flights are focused on, complete with blaring music and dozens of scantily-dressed patrons dancing as a large pack, and a smaller area sectioned off with sleek black booths, lounge chairs, and most interestingly, a bar. 

He instantly forgot about Shiro’s warning as rows of space alcohol line his vision.

As Lance looked around, he couldn't see discrimination into who’s been let into the club. Galran, Balmerans, a race that looked like his sister’s old fursona — the whole run-of-the-mill was here. Just as he eyed a group of attractive Nyma-like chicks on the edge of the dance floor, a nudge from Allura pulled him out of his trance.

“Let’s split up,” she hissed discreetly, scanning her surroundings, “I’ll look for Sylix and you stay out of the way. Got it?”

He barely had time to reply before Allura strode off in the general direction of the aliens he’d been eyeing previously. Lance sighed, “You got it.”

Surveying the club, Lance couldn’t believe that he’d missed out on all of _this_ on Earth. The flashing lights, dancing bodies, the sweet aroma of overpriced cocktails in the air - it was exactly his type of vibe. Even as he briefly saw Keith in the corner of the club, decked out in a security guard outfit and wearing his signature annoyed scowl, Lance’s mood refused to plummet. That was, until he remembered Shiro’s warnings. 

If it wasn’t for Shiro’s overprotectiveness, he’d be out on the dancefloor in a heartbeat. But like everything in Lance life, nothing went right for him, and so he made his way over to the bar, plopping down on a barstool with a dejected groan. 

_One day,_ Lance’s shoulders slumped as he glanced over at the walls of alcohol behind the bar, _one day._

Minutes trickle by slowly and soon enough, Pidge’s faint voice rung out from his comm.

“Subject is approaching, Allura, get ready.” 

Even though he was a good twenty meters from Allura, Lance’s beat raced in trepidation.

_This was it._

The mission was a-go.

Out the corner of his eye, Lance watched Allura and Sylix begin to converse rather… awkwardly. From what he could see across the club, and Allura’s own disjointed conversation ringing in his comms, the blue paladin could sort of make out their conversation. Judging by Sylix’s disinterested posture or the irritated frown Allura tried hard to conceal, their interaction couldn’t be going well.

For anyone that might have been looking, Lance turned away and watched the dance floor to lessen any suspicion. He could still hear snippets of Allura’s conversation as well as periodic updates from Shiro and Pidge about security, though he mostly tried to tune their chatter out with the club’s pounding music. Fiddling with his hands, Lance tapped his foot and swayed slightly to the beat of the music, the team’s conversation slowly fading into the background. 

All in all, he was minding his own business, before his comm crackled in his ear.

“Lance, watch ou—“

Pidge's warning was cut off by a familiar figure sliding onto the stool next to him. He barely had time to react before a pair of dazzling yellow eyes stared right at him. Up close, Lance realised that photos didn’t do him justice. With smooth lilac skin and a long, shiny ponytail that almost gives him hair-envy, Sylix was truly an attractive man.

“What’s a pretty face doing in a place like this?” Smirking, Sylix stared at him with an expression Lance could only describe as _hungry._ A shiver went down his spine. If it was anyone else the mission may have been ruined but luckily, Lance was the blue paladin. He’s adaptable — he knew what to do.

Lance returned a coy smile. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Sylix’s eyebrow rose. For an excruciating moment Lance thought he messed up almost immediately, his pulse suddenly racing with unease.

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

The bubble of anxiety inside him deflated. Sylix didn’t flinch or back away at his flirtations, surprisingly one of the only people that had ever responded positively. “I don’t know, can you?” 

Sylix smiled, flicking out a hand to wave down the nearest bartender. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), that someone happened to be Hunk, fit in a sleek tuxedo and slathered with enough grey face paint for him to resemble a stone. 

“I’ll have a Ryah Root wine, and my friend here wants…”

“Surprise me.”

“…a Blue Moon, then.”

Something flashed across Hunk’s face, but it’s gone before Sylix could notice. Hurrying away, he prepared the drinks and no sooner than a minute passed before two glasses were placed in front of Lance. One looked an awful lot like the whiskey his mother stored on the top shelves in the kitchen - far, far away from his or anyone else’s grabby hands - with burgundy liquid filled halfway in a short glass. A dark cobalt slush lay in the other, intermixed with swirls of brilliant sapphire and shimmering gold. 

Sylix took his glass, swirling the wine with a faint hum. 

“To brighter days,” the Galran offered the drink out expectantly. A euphoric sensation shoots through Lance; his life seemed to be playing out like an old spy movie, absolutely delighting his inner child. Picking up his own drink, Lance raised it to a toast. The glasses let out a small _clink_ as they collided.

Maintaining eye contact, the blue paladin brought the glass to his lips and slowly took a sip (even going so far as to stick his pinkie out to look posher).

As soon as the liquid hits his tongue, Lance’s eyes widened. The Blue Moon cocktail — or mocktail, as he couldn’t taste the sweet bitterness of alcohol, no doubtely thanks to Hunk — dissolved like nectar in his mouth, bursting with a flavour that was aromatic like saffron but saccharine as a freshly-picked mango. The drink flowed down his throat with a frigid aftertaste, reminding him of petrichor and ice. 

Once Lance drained half the glass, he placed it down, scooting forward on his seat to be closer to Sylix.

“Now tell me, what’s the name of the handsome man who’s bought me the most delicious drink?”

“Sylix,” he said, “and your’s? I can’t keep calling you sweetheart in my head.”

The flirting sent a sensation of warmth down Lance’s belly. It was strange being on the receiving end of someone’s flirtations. Usually he’s the one spitting out pick-up lines like a Pez dispenser (and getting rejected just as often.)

“Blue,” he replied. They both took another prolonged drink, never breaking eye-contact. “So,” Lance started, channelling every ounce of smooth-talking he had, “what brings you here?”

Sylix shrugged with an air of nonchalance, “Business, and you?”

“Pleasure.” Lance grinned, flashing his signature smile. He heard Pidge groan through his comm. 

_“Laying it on a little thick aren’t you, Loverboy.”_ Her voice blurted out of the tinny machine. Lance’s fist clenched in annoyance but didn't verbally react.

“Have you ever visited Pollux before?”

“Unfortunately not. I’m a first timer, if you can believe that.”

Sylix let out a hearty laugh. “You fit right in.” The Galra said, grinning with all fang and ferocity.

Lance pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a move he learned from Veronica. Slowly, the thick apprehension that he’d felt before washed away with every sentence. Talking with Sylix, trying to gather information, all felt much more natural that he could’ve imagined. He could work with this. After all, it was just talking. 

“Thank you!” Lance said, “What about you?”

“Live imports and exports, mostly. I run an off-world facility.”

“Sounds… interesting,” Lance trailed off. “No wonder you come here.”

And when Sylix shot him a fanged beam, Lance knew the Galran was caught hook, line and sinker. Their conversation continued to flow naturally, small talk driving a half-decent conversation. With another two rounds, some well-placed laughter and flirting that would definitely not have worked on Earth, Lance found himself completely in his element. As he leaned closer and closer, a lilac blush grew across Sylix’s face. The distance between them shortened rapidly, until the paladin abruptly moved back as a blackened patch on Sylix’s forearm caught his attention.

“Awe,” Lance cooed sympathetically, grabbing his arm to look more closely at it. Tendrils of suspicion started to claw at his mind, “that looks nastly! What happened?”

Sylix raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off-guard. “Oh, that? Nothing major. A small blackout occurred at one of my facilities, and some idiot workers down at the harbour decided to mess around with a couple volatile packages.”

Leaning in, Lance studied the raised flesh closer. Spread across Sylix’s skin were mauve splotches that almost glowed under the blacklights of the club. It looked… angry, like it had been scorched.

A warning bell chimed at the back of his mind. Research for this mission entailed detailed histories of quintessence, as well as knowing what the elusive substance looked like and how it affected others. From first-hand accounts supplied by Keith, they knew the energy often left nasty burns when in contact with skin.

Just like the burn on Sylix’s arm.

And the harbour…

Lance faintly realised he’d discovered the rough location of the quintessence. He also registered that Sylix’s mistake suddenly dawned on him. The smile on the Galran’s face grew a fraction tenser, his eyes flickered in the nightclub’s strobing lights.

“Why don’t we go outside.” Sylix’s words seemed forced. The man retracted his bad arm, offering his other to the paladin.

Flashing a dazzling smile, Lance took the proffered arm. Surprised clenched at his chest as Sylix started walking not towards the front doors, but to the back of the club. He ignored the whispered warning in his comms, specifically Shiro’s PG-rated curses on how he needed to abandon the mission. But Lance couldn’t. He was too close to finding out the location of the quintessence. 

Stepping out of the back door that certainly did not appear on the club’s blueprints, he shivered as a cool zephyr blew at the back of his neck. The door shut behind him with an ominous click. Lance took in the sight of the dimly-lit alleyway, one that was ever-reminiscent of Earth. Sylix detached himself from the paladin’s arm, walking a few steps ahead with his back turned.

At that, something frigid tricked down Lance’s spine.

Call it instinct, but alarm bells immediately blared in his head. You don’t go months in space being attacked almost every day without developing a _feeling,_ premonition for trouble. Before he knew it, Lance’s hand flexed reflexively, waiting for the right moment.

“Look, I’m sorry, you seem like a nice guy, but I’ve said too much around you.” Lance could see the way Sylix’s fingers gripped something tightly. The shouts in his comms increased tenfold. “So, if you don’t mind coming with me, I’ll-”

The Galran barely had time to turn around before Lance lifted his arm, bayard materialising in a flash. Months of fine-tuning his shooting skills made the movements almost instinctual. White light illuminated the alleyway, before a glimpse of blue shot from the bayard, hitting Sylix square in the chest. He collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut, futuristic gun falling out of his hands as his body crumpled to the ground.

_Nice try, sucker._

A triumphant cheshire grin spread across Lance’s face. Walking up to the body, he gave a one-fingered salute and a hearty kick for good measure.

_“Lance, come in!”_ Shiro’s worried voice shouted from the comms. 

_Quiznak._ He totally forgot to check in with the team.

“Don’t worry guys,” Lance cringed, hoping that his lack of communication wouldn’t get him in trouble, “I’m fine. Bastard tried to get the jump on me. Keyword, _tried.”_

A pause, then, “I can’t believe you disobeyed orders. You put yourself in danger, and for what?!”

“Shiro, seriously! I’m _fine._ We know the rough location of the warehouses and you guys even watched me take down Sylix like a badass. I’d say that’s a win win.”

Shiro sighed. “As much as you disobeyed orders, went off on your own and engaged with the target despite _clearly_ being told not to-” he inhaled sharply, “-you did well considering the situation. Good job, kid. I’m proud of you."

Lance couldn't help the elated grin that spread across his face. His hero, praising _him?_ Shiro's genuine compliments were few and far in-between, and receiving felt like a dream come true.

"What about the location of the quintessence?" his comms crackled again; this time Pidge's voice piped up. "We can take Sylix in, but I doubt he'd give up any details."

"Way ahead of you Pidgeon. Idiot revealed that the warehouse is at the harbour. I say we take him into custody, _and_ raid some quintessence."

In his comm, Lance heard her stutter with disbelief.

_"Dude,"_ Pidge breathed out, "how'd you manage to do that?"

"What do you think? No one can resist Loverboy Lance's charms!"

Both Pidge and Shiro groaned simultaneously, but his leader's next words didn't sound at all irritated. 

"Maybe we'll have to put you on more intel missions then," Shiro said, his voice almost fond in a way, before turning back to his usual commanding tone as he continued, "Keith, Allura- Sylix called for backup. You guys head out and extract Lance and Sylix. Well done, everyone."

And as the blue paladin stood in the damp, musty alleyway with no one but an unconscious Galra for company, warmth bubbled within him. His team's genuine praise felt... nice. Warm and fuzzy and made him feel appreciated.

"So," Lance chirped into his comm, "am I allowed that drink now?"

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope y'all enjoyed this.
> 
> If you liked my work, consider following me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/ashkazora) and [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/azorashka)
> 
> If you liked this fic, please leave a kudos and comment! Thank you for reading! <3


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